


The Four times Bastian Was Cold and the One Time He Wasn't

by unamericanamerican



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-03 00:02:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2830805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unamericanamerican/pseuds/unamericanamerican
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Basti is cold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Four times Bastian Was Cold and the One Time He Wasn't

**One**

“Poldi, come on man!” Bastian groans, his fifth attempt to convince his friend that an hour of extra training is more than enough, falling on deaf ears much like his previous attempts.

 

Lukas pays him no attention, all his focus concentrated on the pile of footballs in front of him and the goal a distance away. He hits one after another, some hitting right where he wants them to, others ending up quite a distance from their intended target.

 

Bastian has had enough. It’s starting to snow, even though it’s fucking _March_ , his fingers are going to fall off from the cold, and he’s exhausted from a long training session with the National team. To say his patience is running thin would be generous.

 

He forcefully, not _dramatically_ , walks toward the young forward, silently grabbing the back of his shirt and pulling him off the training pitch.

 

Lukas lets out a small noise of surprise, half-heartedly protesting when he realizes he’s being dragged, literally dragged, back to the locker room.

 

“Schweini, is this really necessary?” Lukas inquires with a juvenile smirk, making an effort to break the hold Bastian has on his shirt so he can walk facing forward.

 

Bastian ignores him, though he does finally let up, releasing his grip on Lukas’s shirt. Lukas takes the opportunity to right himself and throw an arm around his pouty-faced friend.

 

“Come on now, don’t be grumpy,” Lukas pinches Bastian’s cheek, earning himself quite the glare in return.

 

Lukas chuckles, “I’m sorry I made you stay out in the cold. I just want to be ready for our first World Cup, you know?”

 

And just like that, all annoyance Bastian felt toward the younger man is suddenly gone, replaced with a feeling of excitement and companionship that he’s really starting to crave.

 

**Two**

 

Lukas hears the footsteps outside his door, pacing back and forth, back and forth, and he knows who it is before the person summons the courage to knock and he opens the door.

 

Bastian Schweinsteiger. Lukas looks him up and down, quickly coming to the conclusion that his friend looks very much like a kicked puppy. A look that makes it ten times harder to stay angry with the Bavarian.

 

Bastian glances at him for a split second before the words come tumbling out of his mouth.

 

“Poldi, I’m so sorry. You know I didn’t mean any of the shit I said, right? I was being stupid and emotional and I really don’t want you to leave but I know you have to do what’s best for you and your family and your career. I know that, I really do. And I understand that you have to leave and go back to Cologne. I’m just not happy about it…. okay?”

 

After a deep breath and another quick glance up at Lukas, Bastian continues, “It’s been great having you here in Munich and training with you everyday and I don’t want that to change but it’s not up to me, it is? I’ll miss you but I will support you, no matter what. You’re my best friend, of course I’ll support you…”

 

Lukas stands there in stunned silence, taken back his friend’s (boyfriend is probably a more appropriate word at this point but he really doesn’t want to open that can of worms right now) little emotional outburst.

 

The longer the silence stretches on the more nervous and anxious Bastian becomes, until it gets to the point when he has to say _something_. Anything will be better than silence.

 

“Alright, my balls are going to freeze off any second now, so can I please come in…”

 

**Three**

Bastian is gathering his things from where they’re scattered around the bedroom when he hears movement from the bed.

 

“Trying to sneak out on me, huh?” Lukas asks, his voice muffled slightly against the pillow.

 

“You wish you could get rid of me that easily,” Bastian teases as he walks across the room and takes a seat on the edge of the bed, hand coming to rest on Lukas’s bare back.

 

Lukas tilts his head up, eyes squeezed shut, and puckers his lips in a way that causes Bastian to bust out laughing before fulfilling Lukas’s request for a kiss.

 

It’s slow and sleepy, familiar mouths moving together in a way that can only be described as instinctual.

 

Bastian is the one to break away first.

 

“I do have to go though, I promised coach I would be back early for breakfast with the team and recovery. He did me a pretty big favor by letting me out of the hotel last night so…”

 

Lukas hums his disapproval, but lets his boyfriend up so he can continue gathering his things.

 

Minutes later Bastian is dressed, packed, and ready to head out into the London winter. He walks over to the bed one last time for a quick goodbye kiss, before turning to head out the door.

 

Lukas’s hand shoots out and grabs his before he can go anywhere. Bastian prepares himself to fend off Lukas’s more than welcome advances, because he _really_ does need to get back to the team on time…

 

Bastian turns around to see Lukas leaning over the far side of the bed, reaching for something on the floor.

 

“Don’t forget your _stolen_ hat. We wouldn’t want your precious little head to get cold.”

 

Bastian grins and grabs the red and blue ‘AHA’ beanie from Lukas’s outstretched hand, before fitting in on his head. He goes in for one more kiss, and then walks toward the door, this time intent on leaving knowing that he’s already running late.

 

“See you in Munich for the second leg?” Lukas calls as he reaches the door.

 

“Bring it babe, bring it…” Bastian closes the door behind him, the sound of Lukas’s laughter ringing in his ears.

**Four**

“Basti! Fuck,” Lukas exclaims in a voice that is still scratchy with sleep. He peeks one eye open, glaring at the man whose hands are currently like blocks of ice on his stomach.

 

Bastian grins innocently, his eyes widening in a way that makes him look ten years younger even though he’s pushing thirty, a fact that Lukas loves to remind him of.

 

Lukas makes a half-hearted attempt to push Bastian away, which only forces the Bavarian to nestle in deeper against Lukas’s side, taking advantage of the fact that Lukas is still half asleep.

 

Lukas whines, this time trying to wiggle his way out of Bastian’s hold and escape to the other side of the bed. Bastian is having absolutely none of that, throwing a leg over Lukas’s thigh, forcing him to stay put.

 

“I feel that the only reason you keep me around is to be your own personal space heater…” Lukas gently accuses, pulling Bastian closer and running a hand up and down the arm resting across his stomach.

 

“I mean, that’s not the _only_ reason,” Bastian says into his neck, placing a soft kiss on the underside of his jaw.

 

Lukas hums his approval, tilting his head back slightly to encourage Bastian’s advances.

 

Bastian grins, shifting smoothly so that he’s straddling Lukas’s hips while his lips travel from his neck to his mouth and back again.

 

He takes a quick peek at Lukas, reveling in the way his boyfriend’s eyes are closed, his head in tilted back in pleasure with his mouth slightly open.

 

And just like that, he has the power to make Lukas forget all about the cold hands that pulled him from his sleep.

 

**Five**

They manage to sneak away from the partying and the drinking and the dancing with the trophy, slowing making their way down to the secluded beach outside the hotel.

 

Lukas pulls Bastian along with one hand while the other grips the trophy close to his chest.

 

They both take a seat in the sand, the cup sitting in front of them in all its glory.

 

They sit in silence for a moment or two, the first time all night either of them has been able to reflect on how a ten year dream has finally come true.

 

Lukas is the first to break the silence.

 

“You know, I’m really happy you’re the guy who’s been next to me for the last ten years. And that we finally won this fucking thing…” He jokes, reaching a hand out to stroke the top of the cup.

 

They both laugh softly because, yeah _fucking finally_ , and Bastian wraps an arm around Lukas’s side, pulling him flush against him.

 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way Luki,” Bastian replies and presses a quick kiss to Lukas’s temple.

 

They’re sitting there listening to the distant sound of the celebration of their teammates and Bastian thinks that he will remember every single moment from this night. From the moments on the pitch during the game, to the celebration and trophy presentation to the locker room and the bus back to the hotel. Every single second will be imprinted in his memory for the rest of his life.

 

This moment right now, sitting next to Lukas with the cup after ten years together, working towards this thing that they’ve _finally_ achieved. The way they’re touching, from their shoulders to the hips to their knees, hands tangled up between them. This, yes he will most definitely remember this moment for the rest of his life. Without a doubt.


End file.
